


It Isn't Supposed to be Like This

by JoyfullyDreadful



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Hurt No Comfort, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23447569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoyfullyDreadful/pseuds/JoyfullyDreadful
Summary: He scratches and he tears at his skin, screams echoing all throughout the dark and cold mausoleum. He closes his eyes and he cries for a salvation that isn’t coming, holding onto a single thread of hope despite knowing the thought is futile*He wakes from the nightmare drenched in sweat, breath leaving his body in ragged bursts. He pulls his knees up to his chest and he takes a moment to remind himself that he isn’t there anymore. He’s safe, in a cot somewhere in Vietnam*He wakes again. He’s sitting in the bathtub at the manor, headphones over his ears, the memory of the death of the love of his life fresh on his mind.*He wakes for a final time and he’s back in the mausoleum.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 98





	It Isn't Supposed to be Like This

He scratches and he tears at his skin, screams echoing all throughout the dark and cold mausoleum. He closes his eyes and he cries for a salvation that isn’t coming, holding onto a single thread of hope despite knowing the thought is futile. He opens his eyes and he screams himself ragged, mutilated figures dancing in his eyesight. Wretched voices seep into his rain, pleas for help scratching at his mind, the whispers of those he had aided in killing causing guilt to course through his veins. 

The door opens and the guilt is replaced with hope, only to quickly become terror when the voice of his father filters through the screaming voices and tells him he has another four hours screams and begs for help, but his cries fall on deaf ears as his father closes the door again, leaving him prone to the mutilated figures that dance around him. He clenches his fist and he curls up into a ball, tears making tracks in the blood and dirt that coat his face. He sobs himself into submission, giving up hope that he will ever escape, allowing the dead to reach into him and  _ rip _ . 

*

He wakes from the nightmare drenched in sweat, breath leaving his body in ragged bursts. He pulls his knees up to his chest and he takes a moment to remind himself that he isn’t there anymore. He’s safe, in a cot somewhere in Vietnam. He feels arms wrap around his body and he startles, but relaxes when he recognizes who the arms belong to. “ _ Dave” _ he breathes, turning his head to look at the man who rests in the cot next to him. The other man starts to sit up, and Klaus can see the worry reflected in those pretty eyes of his. 

“Hey darlin’” the other man whispers softly, reaching up to run a hand through Klaus’s sweat-soaked hair, “you have another nightmare?” The shaking man turns his head into Dave’s chest, nodding his head as he cries. Dave tightens his grip on his, pulling him even closer.”Wanna talk about it?” When Klaus shakes his head no, he kisses him on the head and holds him, letting him cry into his chest.

When his crying finally ceases, he pulls back to look Dave in the eyes and he smiles at him, pushing forward to rest his forehead on the other’s. “Thank you” he whispers. He doesn’t say for what, but Dave knows what he means. The other man just smiles in response, and leans forward to kiss him, and Klaus eagerly reciprocate, putting a hand on his chest to pull him closer and-

His hand meets a wetness. He opens his eyes and looks down at his hand and it is red,  _ it’s red, why is it red? _ He looks back up to his chest and there’s a hole where there shouldn’t be, with blood gushing out, and when he looks up into his eyes they are glazed over and they’re wrong. He looks around and they’re in the trenches, they aren’t in the cots anymore and he’s yelling for a medic. No one answers him, and he turns back to Dave and puts his head on the other’s chest and he begins to scream and sob, wondering  _ Why me?  _

It isn’t supposed to be like this.

*

He wakes again. He’s sitting in the bathtub at the manor, headphones over his ears, the memory of the death of the love of his life fresh on his mind. Water sloshes over the edge of the tub as he shoots up in the tub, sobs shaking his entire body. He grips the edge of the tub, looking around, searching for  _ something _ to ground him in reality. His salvation comes in the form of Ben. The dead boy walks through a wall and into the bathroom, where he takes one look at Klaus and worry overtakes his face. 

He walks over to the tub and kneels down until he’s eye level with his living brother “Hey. Klaus, talk to me. What happened?” When he received no response, he reached out to touch his arm, despite knowing that his hand would go right through him. But it didn’t. His hand stopped at his shoulder, resting on it. And Klaus could feel it.  _ He could feel it. _

His eyes shot up to look Ben in the eyes, and they stared at each other in shock. Then Klaus was shooting out of the tub to give his brother a hug.  _ He was giving his brother a hug. A real hug.  _ When they pulled apart from each other they were laughing, and they were happy. “I’ve gotta show the others!” Klaus exclaimed, standing up and getting dressed in the shortest amount of time Ben had ever seen him manage. The living boy grabbed the dead boy’s hand again and dragged him down the hallway, down the stairs until they were in the kitchen, where the rest of their family was.

“Guys!” called Klaus, voice filled with glee. The others turned to Klaus, annoyance clear across their faces. When he got their attention, he gestured to his side, where Ben stood, still holding his hand. “Look! It’s Ben”. Klaus expected joy from the others. He wasn’t expecting the anger that flashed across their faces. 

Diego stood up and Klaus hadn’t seen him that angry in a long time. “Would you just cut it out Klaus! Ben’s dead! Stop trying to use him as a way to get attention.”

The living boys face fell in shock.  _ They can’t see him. Why can’t they see him?  _ He turned to Ben again, hoping for an answer, but what he found instead was a wicked grin with evil eyes. The dead boy laughed, turning and looking him in the eyes. “You really thought you had made me tangible? You really thought your useless junkie self could do that?”

Tears began to fall out of his eyes as he backed up in surprise.  _ No No No No, why was this happening to him?  _

It isn’t supposed to be like this. 

*

He wakes for a final time and he’s back in the mausoleum. He’s thirteen again, made this way by Five to prevent the apocalypse. The mutilated figures are back, dancing within his field of vision. Their screaming washes over him, and he begins to sob for the fourth time that day. He scratches at the floor, hoping for a way out but gives up soon over the attempt starts. He allows his body to crumple, energy leaving him. Ever so slowly his will to exist escapes from his body and he lays there, allowing the figures trapped in the building with him to claw at him.

It isn’t supposed to be like this.

**Author's Note:**

> I really like writing angst. I also really like Klaus Hargreeves. So this happened.
> 
> As always, comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated !!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr as JoyfullyDreadful !


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